Synchronicity
by GaleSynch
Summary: AU: The original Ion never really died, the birth of someone else as Yulia Jue's descendant changed everything. -Sync/Ion, Ion/Arietta/Sync, Ion/Anise-
1. Chapter 1

**Synchronicity **

**[1. Aberration.]**

* * *

**H**e could hear it weakening. He could hear Arietta's concerned calls. He could hear Van's voice and the sound of the man's feet as he closed in on him. He could feel his life leaving him. He could see the darkness as he crumpled to the ground.

"How long does he have left?"

"I'm afraid not much longer, Mohs, what do we do now?"

Ion stared at his two subordinates, eyes narrowing into a glare when they spoke as if he—the main subject of their talk—wasn't there. He coughed to get their attention; he felt slightly satisfied when Van and Mohs nodded their apology.

"Now then," Ion spoke, the effort of doing so hurting his chest but he ignored it—he wasn't going to come out as weak. "about my condition—"

"You're dying, Lord Ion," Mohs blurted out, sweat pouring from his face and eyes widening in excitement—greed eating at his mind that once Ion died, his rank would be given to the fatty. "You need a heir and I am—"

"Yes," the Fon Master sneered. "I _am_ dying."

"Lord Ion," Van cut in with a frown directed Mohs direction before turning to his master with a blank face that betrayed no concern he felt for the young twelve year-old Fon Master. "This might not be the end yet, I found a very capable doctor who had healed even the most impossible disease—she's a Seventh Fonist, my cousin, also a descendant of Yulia Jue—"

"Bah!" Mohs made a rude noise before laughing as if what Van had said was horribly ridiculous. "As if that rubbish is true—"

"I'd be the one to decide what is rubbish and what's not," Ion said coldly. "Get out of my sight, Mohs. Van, get your cousin in here."

Both men nodded and moved to follow Ion's orders.

The Fon Master shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable on his bed. His emerald eyes darted around the room, as if trying to memorize what he'd be seeing for the last time. After a few moments, his eyes landed on a skull of a liger at the window sill; a gift from Arietta, his Fon Master Guardian.

He felt tears brimming in his eyes; the unfamiliar burn confusing him. He hadn't cry since he was a child and yet, now facing the imminent threat of death, his tears spilled down his face.

Unknown to him, Phyllis Grant saw that. A frown pulled at her features; the boy was too young to die in her opinion though she didn't very much approve of his attitude. She'd heard from Van of what he usually do; kill without reason, a stress relief and fun. And unnecessarily cruel to even his own subordinates.

She knocked on the door after motioning to Van to stay where he was; to let her confront the young boy on her own.

The Fon Master turned to face her on his bed, after having rubbed away the tears and its streaks down his face. Phyllis politely ignored the red rimming his eyes and instead chose to get right down to business.

"I can't cure you," she stated simply and bluntly. "But I can delay your death until I found the cure."

Ion pursed his lips, the Score detaining what will happen to him surfaced in his memories—"_You shall be replaced; your life shall be saved by your shadow's_"—but he ignored them and considered what he should do.

"Are you sure you can find a cure?" he demanded softly after a minute of silence.

"If I have you as my research material—and it'd be painless—yes."

Ion stared at the door where he knew Van was eavesdropping on the conversation. "Van?" he called.

"Yes?" came the muffled reply though the wooden doors.

"The... Machine... is it ready?" Phyllis threw Ion a confused look but she didn't question anything.

"Why would you need it, Lord Ion? You'd be coming back—"

"In time I will," Ion agreed, a serene smile on his face. Van, who had just entered, and his cousin exchanged a look at the Fon Master's sudden change of attitude from bitter to cheery. "But I will need a replacement in the time I'd be gone. And I'm not ready—never will—hand Mohs the Fon Master position no matter how temporary it is."

"As your doctor, Fon Master," a sarcastic sneer from Phyllis. "I have the right to know what you're planning."

"Oh, it won't endanger my health much," Ion waved it off, deeming it if no concern to him.

"Fon Master!" both Van and his cousin instantly protested but the green haired youth was having none of their nonsense.

"Get out, I need to rest." He commanded coolly.

Phyllis and Van wore identical scowls—it was obvious that they were of the same family tree—but were forced to obey even though they sorely wanted to protest.

**SxI**

Iö Grant and Phyllis Grant left for Belkend on Lunaday in the month of Sylph Decan.

Fon Master Ion miracalously recovered from his disease on Ifritday in the month of Sylph Decan.

Van Grants founded a special squad of knights directly under his command on Undineday the same month.

Arietta was promoted to one of the God Generals on Sylphday in the same month.

Sync the boy with the mask was introduced as a future God General on Lorelaiday in the same month.

Anise Tatlin was appointed as Fon Master Guardian in the stead of Arietta on Gnomeday the same month.

On Remday the same month, it was the start of an aberration.

**SxI**

* * *

**A/N:** A rewrite of my old TOA story; that was rubbish. The pairings will remain the same: Sync/Ori!Ion/Ion though many things will change. I don't how this will turn out though. Hopefully not as bad as the last...


	2. Chapter 2

**Synchronicity **

**[2. Life Goes On.]**

**S**ync scowled heavily under his mask, not happy that he'd have to be the one to wake Arietta up. She definitely wasn't a morning person from his speculation but Legretta—his trainer along with Van—said that before Fon Master Ion fell ill, she was always the first to wake up and was definitely a morning person: cheerful and exuberant all day.

The replica's lips pressed into an angry thin line at the thought of his original. The memory of when he'd first met the boy he was cloned after wasn't pleasant. The oldest among them, First they call him because he was the first made. First was the kindest of all the replicas smiling and nurturing them, teaching them to his best even though he himself was new to this world.

Sync suppose that First would have been the replacement if he wasn't killed brutally by the original himself. Second—the numbers were their names back then and so on, First to Seven—had screamed in horror, crying because he'd been the one closest to First (They were all too new to the world to know the true meaning of love and how it felt).

Instead of punishing him like Sync had expected him to, the original Ion merely smiled, as if pleased at the replica's pain. Executing Fonic Artes came naturally to Sync (Fifth back then) and Sixth and Seventh. The others—Fourth and Third—had collapsed after doing it and Second just didn't try.

Sync was disgusted with himself to remember how he'd been so happy because his Arte was the strongest among them and he'd expected himself to be chosen when his hopes crashed when he failed to read the Score. The replicas had verifying reactions.

Second was indifferent—he'd grown cold and distant ever since First's death but they all knew he still loved his replica siblings. Third and Fourth whom were practically inseparable ever since First's death were happy for Seventh and smiled constantly, which enraged Sync—did they not know that failure on their part means that they're trash and trash are bound to be thrown out?—but he still respected them.

Sixth was the most cheerful, most innocent and most oblivious of them all. He was happy with everything and congratulated Seventh endlessly. Seventh merely smiled painfully but there was pride in his eyes which irked Sync deeply. After much pestering from Sixth and others, he'd managed to spit out a very bitter congratulations before isolating himself from them.

He never saw Seventh as Fifth ever since then. The memories that followed was the replicas whom were failures were boarded on a ship and taken to Mt. Zaleho and cast in alive, to burn alive. Second whom had taken the role as the leader ever since First died had tried his best to guide them out of the hellhole but they separated when the damn dragon guardians sunk the bridge when only Second, Third and Fourth had crossed.

Sync and Sixth had been left behind. Due to some of his benevolence he never knew existed in him, Sync told them to leave them and they'd find another way out. The other three were obviously reluctant but they complied. Sync and Sixth didn't even wait to see did their brethren leave or not before they ran.

But the dragon, most likely a female because of its smaller size, was in pursuit. Sync could only scarcely remember what happened next because of all the searing pain from his back—he at least knew from what Van later told him that he'd thrown himself onto Sixth to shield him when the dragon breathed a torrent of fire their way and Sync was amazed at his stupidity—but by sheer luck, Sixth managed to drag his beaten and half-conscious and crawled out of the damned volcano where Sixth then ran to find help. He found Van instead of help.

Van needed warriors for his new group. Sync was all for destroying the Score and joining and since Sixth had nothing to do, he agreed mindlessly with Sync. Only the latter could prove to be a fighter, Sixth was just too gentle and against violence.

Sync didn't know what to do with him. Van suggested Sixth—named Florian by Sync for his innocence—to be a healer for the training facility. And every time Sync was in need of treatment, he wouldn't let anyone but his 'younger twin brother who also wears a mask' treat his wounds.

Then he'd leave.

Life goes on.

**XXXXX**

**The Year Their Life Goes On**

**XXXXX**

Second tried his best. He really did, but even he couldn't ensure his younger brothers—they were made of the same blood and flesh so they were family—safety. He turned his head for the thousandth time in the hour to make sure Third and Fourth were still there.

Fourth had a slightly harder time to catch up and Third fell back, holding out his hand to help the younger boy. Second waited for them patiently but when the earth shook by the dragon's roar—Fifth's and Sixth's sacrifice were useless since another dragon was after them—he called for them to hurry up.

"Where?" Third asked helplessly, hope already fading from his eyes.

"Don't give up... hope, Third," Fourth panted, struggling more to keep up with his more sturdy builded brothers.

"Fourth's right," Second agreed, the words First had spoke to him so long ago resounding in his ears—words that'd shaped his whole life and his will to live now and the decisions he make now. "we have to keep going—we'd find Fifth and Sixth."

They struggled through the jagged pathways, bare feet painfully scrapping rocks as they followed the well-used path. Second was the first to reach the small crack where fresh air came to, where the night sky was visible. He wiggled his way out and signaled for the other two to follow.

"Go, Fourth," Third hissed, tugging the smaller boy towards the hole and ushering for him to crawl through. Fourth swallowed fearfully, fear clouding his mind as he caught sight of the torrent of fire, rooting his feet to the ground. After one more forceful push, he complied with Third's wish.

His smaller frame made it easier for him to crawl through than it did for Second. But unlike Second, he wasn't as accustom to pain as the stronger replicas—like First, Second, Fourth and Fifth—were. He cried out in pain and hesitated, trying to see what the cut the jagged rock has done to his palm.

"No time, Fourth," Second hissed from outside the volcano. "Hurry up, we'll look into your wounds later."

With a whimper, Fourth crawled out and he turned, expecting Third to scramble through in a minute. Second expected the same thing and they both waited patiently but both jolted in shock when the small cavern which was their escape route came crashing down. Fourth tried to rush in but Second pulled him back, both staring in horror as the realization that Third hadn't made it out sunk in.

Fourth started bawling and Second almost followed his example when he heard the faint sound of someone calling his name. He cautiously approached the cavern and through the small, small cracks of the rocks, thought he could make out Third's aquamarine orbs.

"Third?" he whispered. "Is that you? Are you okay?"

The aquamarine orbs seemed glazed over but it shone as if the owner of the eyes were smiling. "Yeah," the eyes' owner whispered back, almost painfully. "Is Fourth okay?"

Second nodded vigorously, turning and calling for his younger brother to come. Fourth might as well be the wind with the speed he appeared at Second's side, peering into the cracks to see Third.

"Brother...you're okay!" Fourth declared with glee. "That's great—come on out, we can leave together."

"Sorry. I can't do that."

"_Why_?"

A pause. "There's no way out."

"The cracks. We can dig!"

"The dragon's already got me."

"Then how...?"

"We're made of fonons, we can live a bit longer after a deathly blow before fading."

"_No_!"

Third's eyes glowed. Second blinked back his tears, realizing that it wasn't just Third's eyes glowing but his whole body was glowing. He smiled through his tears, somehow, knowing that Third was looking at them through the opaque barrier.

Fourth sniffled, as if he had the same feeling. "Third? Will I see you again?"

No answer.

"I love you two. Tell Fifth and Sixth and Seventh I love them too. I guess I'd be the first one to see First then," a dry and painful chuckle. "And I'm sorry."

A single small spark that in their later years, Second and Fourth would come to associate as the Seventh Fonon floated through the small crack. The only other indication than silence that Third was gone.

Fourth collapsed onto the ground and screamed; one wordless howl of anguish.

Second sat, back against the rocky surface, and stared at the night sky. The replicas had been allowed into Fon Master Ion's private garden a few times because the scientists were too busy to take care of them and so locked them in the garden, warning them to not make any noises.

Second recalled the rare times where Third wasn't spending his time with Fourth—Fifth on a very rare occasion agreed to play with Fourth, Sixth and Seventh—and had came to lay with him and First on the ground. They all stared wordlessly up at the sky, feeling the artificial breeze caress their faces and hair.

"Don't you ever get bored?" Second'd finally broke the silence, looking at Third and First from the corners of his eyes. Receiving blank stares in return, he clarified: "Staring at the sky all the time."

"It's the only chance we'd ever get to know how a real sky even come close to looking like," First'd answered—Second remembered his words clearly because it was his freshest memory before he'd been killed by the original Ion. "So, no."

"Life goes on even though we're staring at the sky. At least we're doing something other than wasting what others had given us."

First and Second exchanged a glance at Third's murmured words but didn't say anything.

"When had they given us anything?"

"One another." First replied, gazing deeply into Second's eyes. Out of all of them, First was the one that got what emotions meant without having it explained it to him or having to experience it. Second didn't know what First was feeling when he gazed at him but now, he had something of a feeling that it was similar to how Third looked at Fourth.

"Let's go," Second finally said, crawling to Fourth who was still crying. He wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him to his feet. Fourth struggled but when Second leaned forward and whispered in his ear what First and Third had told him—so long ago that it might as well have been a million years ago where the world seemed to be a less crueler place—he stopped.

Life goes on.

"Move on, brother. Don't dwell on me."

From beyond the beyond, First smiled sadly as he wrapped an arm around Third's shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

**Synchronicity **

**[3]**

* * *

Iö glanced up as subtly as possible through his long fringe; feeling extremely unsettled for the first time in a long while when the tingling sensation went nuts in him. His heart nearly stopped when he caught sight of the familiar Fon Master Guardian grab and he nearly assumed it was Arietta _except_—

It was adorned on _another_ girl's body.

He bit his tongue to restrain his anger but the person that came into the Engeve inn next nearly sent Iö off the hook.

The boy with green hair and jade eyes wearing a Fon Master garb. His position, his face, his smile. His smile that was always fake on his face was genuine on the replica Ion's face. He was disgusted his replica would smile so freely and genuinely to a mere innkeeper.

Did he know the meaning of pretending? He should know because the replica Ion had always been a fake. From birth, wearing the face of another.

His lips pressed into a thin and angry line and he turned back to his book, trying and failing to read. His ears unwillingly pick up the Fon Master Guardian's excuse for a departure before she rushed off. His replica hesitated—he could practically feel the hesitation vibrating of him—before approaching him cautiously.

He could hear the boy shift nervously.

"Um..." More hesitation on the replica's part which irked Iö and _is that boy hesitating so much his clone_. "Excuse me but...do I know you from somewhere?"

_From birth_, Iö smirked thinly, finally turning to face the chosen replica. Iö had taken special precaution by dying his hair a navy blue and wore contact lenses but he knew it wouldn't be enough to hide his true identity from his clones. They were from him after all, the fonons within resonanced when fonons identical to themselves appear.

Already, Iö could feel the other replicas that had survive gathering. Useless that Mohs, told him to get rid of the needless trash and somehow, some of them managed to escape. It would raise questions, why are they so many Fon Masters? All with the same faces but different masks?

Ion's sharp intake of breath brought the original back from his reverie.

"Maybe," he finally deigned to answer. "I've never known you."

True, partially anyway. The original never really knew what happened and what had become of his replicas. So he really had never knew Ion.

"Oh, sorry, maybe I was just mistaken." There was that edge to his tone that indicated he might know who the boy he was talking to. "Sorry for bothering you."

Iö gave a non-committal grunt, eyeing Ion from the corner of his eye. The replica had settled himself by the window and had pushed open the window, inhaling the fresh breeze. Instantly, some dust lodge itself in Iö's eyes. He hissed and was about to cuss out loud when villagers passing by yelled. He didn't care and didn't even listen, rubbing his eye furiously but Ion gasped and rushed off.

He knew that look on Ion's face. The face of someone who was about to do something stupid which also translated as being the hero of the day. He'll be damn to let others use his face and play hero. He sprang to his feet and ran after Ion.

By the time he exited the inn, he'd already lost sight of Ion. But that was okay; he stretched out his sense and the tingling sensation pointed to the east. He followed it, instinct telling him that he was right in doing so. He frowned at the ransacked store.

Talk about sloppy, he wouldn't have left such easy evidence had he been the one to raid the store. He entered, sidestepping any fallen barrel and fruits on the ground. He found his replica rummaging around soon enough. Leaning lazily against the door frame, he decided a simple hello wouldn't suffice.

"Never though a Fon Master would be ransacking the store."

Ion glanced up just in time to see his sneer stretch across his pale lips. "No," he said, returning to his work of searching for something. "I was looking for evidence."

"Why? Does it concern you in any way?"

"Someone's been accused."

"That someone might be the culprit."

"No—aha!"

Ion's exclamation had Iö abandoning his post by the door and entered the threshold. He wrinkled his nose at the spiderweb and the dirtiness but his two years spent by Phyllis Grant's side had already gotten him used to dirtiness—especially places like Belkend where he had to get greasy to repair some damn machine. He approached Ion and tried to ignore how the tingling sensation turned into full blast screeching pain. He gritted his teeth, sweat beading down his forehead, as he gazed down at the fur in Ion's hand.

He retreated quickly, gaining distance and reducing the pain. Ion only seemed mildly discomfort but he brushed it off and stood, showing Iö the fur in his hand, a proud grin on his face.

"A cheagle's fur," he said rather uselessly because Iö can certainly tell.

"So?" the original shrugged. "A cheagle did this."

"But don't you think its odd? Cheagles are herbivores."

Iö opened his mouth to dish out a scathing remark but someone screeching and sounds of scuffles interrupted him. _Talk about deja vu_, he thought humorlessly. He crossed his arms as he sneered. "Don't you think you should leave? The person you're trying to save from being framed is now being haul into questioning."

Ion looked flustered, judging by the pink blush on his face. Iö didn't condemn him for that because he himself was easy to blush too. He cursed his inherited genes instead but at least Ion and he managed to look cute when they blush. Another genetic make-up that he didn't condemn.

He smirked faintly, turning on his heel and leaving. Ion went the other direction after calling out a farewell but Iö doubted it would be the last time they see one another.

A phantom pain in his gut nearly made him stagger. Why...? The tingling went into pain the moment Iö ran into someone.

"Sorry!" That someone apologized profusely. The voice was rather high, husky and feminine. It was familiar because it was nearly similar to Ion's so didn't that mean—

"Hope, apologize. Now." A stern voice cut in swiftly, cutting off Iö's demeaning retort. This new voice was lower pitched but still on the high-husky scale. Damn. No wonder he felt as if someone had ran him through with a swore. The replicas were really starting to gather and his senses couldn't take it.

"I did, Gale, he just didn't answer!" the childish voice protested.

"Are you okay...?"

He straightened, trying not to meet the replicas' eyes and concerned gazes.

"Yes." There was that scathing retort at the tip of his tongue again but he managed to control himself. He turned on his heel and headed to the inn. His two replicas followed him. Damn.

"Why did you leave us so quickly?" the childish one of the replica, Hope, inquired.

_Because you're bugging me_. "Because I'm tired." Not particularly a lie, just not the whole truth either.

"Oh..."

"We're sorry to bother you then, excuse me and my brother." The more mature of the replica, Gale smiled hesitantly before he hauled his brother away and towards the innkeeper.

I collapsed onto my assigned bed and was about to fall asleep when an obnoxiously loud red-head and a brunette chick, arguing came storming into the room.

Damn.


End file.
